


Tent Tremors

by BoringMacaroni



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dutch Oven, Elf, Eproctophilia, Fantasy, Fart Fetish, Farting, First Kiss, Flatulence, Gassy Guy, LGBT, M/M, Male Farting, Sweat, fart kink, sweating, upset stomach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-22 19:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20879123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoringMacaroni/pseuds/BoringMacaroni
Summary: Baby, it's cold outside. So why don't ya snuggle up with these two idiots?





	Tent Tremors

** _PPPPppRRrRroooTTThhhbBBbbbBBbbBbbrrruUUURRRRRPPPppprrrhhffRfRfRRRRRRT!_ **

For what was hardly the first time that night, nor would it be the last, the tent quivered as it was submerged into a musky ruckus courtesy of none other than the half-troll's hazardous backside.

"Man alive! Where did _that _come from?" Shep laughed, only to feel something move in his lower abdomen, and consequently, his well-proportioned buttocks filtered out an even thicker expulsion of gas.

"I think we both know the answer to that," his companion answered testily. This husky voice sounded from underneath a mound of blankets, each varying in size, material and how many moths had chosen to dine on them. Rodrik folded the coverings closely around his lean body to try and keep in the heat. He had every quilt to himself, having evicted Shep from the nest-like bundle long ago, for obvious reasons.

**Ppppuuurrrrrp!**

"Ooooh..." The hybrid's guttural reaction came from a place of relief - for that eruption had let out air he had been harboring for far too long - and apprehension, for there was still so much more trapped inside him. His multiple stomachs had swelled up like balloons, distending his gut so much he had to lower his boxers halfway down his crotch to make enough room for the severe bloat.

"Uh oh," he groaned, massaging his belly as it emitted a handful of aggressive gurgles and sloshes. "You know what that means, right?"

"Unfortunately, I do," Rodrik mumbled, wondering why he even bothered to play along.

"Incoming!"

**BBBBBRRRRRFFRRRRRRRT! PPPppPpPPPRRrRrrRrRRRRRT! FFOOOOUUURRRRRPPPP!**

"Fuck me," Shep panted as he expelled three huge farts, and wiped the back of his hand across his dewy forehead. His derriere wasn't the only thing tainting the air with a particular perfume; the half-breed's armpits were emitting a strong fragrance of their own, more so than usual, for along with the suffocating stench, each fart brought forth a blast of sweltering air. The humidity was building up substantially inside the compact cotton walls. The only clothing Shep had on was a pair of old, manky boxers, yet his skin still glistened with oily sweat.

Rodrik had the opposite dilemma. Even when he was nestled underneath his collection of blankets and wearing double the amount of layers he normally had on, the elf struggled to retain any sort of warmth. He recalled, with a marked feeling of self-reproach, how the morning had been frosty, and how the clouds had been bathed in a strange pink hue all throughout the afternoon. If only he and Shep had paid more attention. Mother Nature had given them plenty of warnings that there was a snowstorm on the way.

He sighed in disgust as the unattractive aroma deluged the inside of their cramped living quarters. If they had bothered to take heed, Rodrik might not have to torture his nose in order to avoid risking hypothermia. Sure, it wasn't the most charming of environments to be roosting in, but on a subzero night like this one, Rodrik was rather thankful for his partner's unflattering habits. Not that he'd ever admit to purposely irritating Shep's system - but he hadn't exactly stopped him from gorging on a selection of gas-inducing foods before they settled down to sleep.

_Ggglloooouuurrrggggrrrrr!_

_Never mind the storm outside, when there's one unfolding right beside me, _he thought. Despite his instinctive repulsion, he eagerly awaited the cozy warmth that would accompany the half-breed's next bowel movement. With another watery gurgle signaling an oncoming blast, Shep lifted his leg and let a twenty-second rumbler escape from his dirty behind.

"Cor! I definitely don't remember eating that," he remarked. **BbBbBbbrrrruurRrRrrrrRRRT!** "Or that," he added, nose curling up at the fetor of moldy vegetables.

"I'm surprised you can remember anything you eat, considering how much you stuff in that gob of yours," Rodrik needled.

"A loaf of basilisk bread and lentil soup, a bowl and a half of dry-roasted, chili-smothered scorpions, a large egg salad and three pigeon steaks with a side of refried beans," the latter of which Shep was still picking out of his misshapen teeth. "And that was just for dinner, if I'm not mistaken. Don't get me started on supper."

"You're such a pig."

"Huh! If you had three babies to take care of, you'd act no differently," the half-breed asserted, stroking his stomach protectively. His smirk grew queasy as he felt the latest air-bubble rush along his digestive tract, and he leaned to the side to aid the vile flatulence in its bolt for freedom.

**BrrrBBbbrbrbrrFffFFffllrrrRRRRTTT! VVVVVUUUUURRRRRRRT! THRRRMMFFrrrppprrruuurrrp! SPPpPLLoOOORRT!**

"Eugh! Did you just soil yourself?"

"No!"

Rodrik heard the tent's floor crinkle as the other boy wriggled his hips and investigated the crime he had been accused of.

"...if I did, it was only a wee bit," the hybrid muttered.

The elf scoffed and rolled back over to his side - as far away from the odorous blonde as their small space would allow. It wasn't as if the sultriness of Shep's farts were going anywhere; a plus for him, but a major downside for Shep. The half-breed shut his eyes and tried to steady his breathing into something that would entice sleep, but the atmosphere was much too stuffy for him to get comfortable. Even when he had lived in a cave the air had been crisper than this. And it _definitely_ didn't smell anywhere near as bad.

...alright, that last part might've been a lie.

Eyeing Rodrik, and hoping that the elf might've already started his slumber, Shep leaned over and fingered the metal zip that opened and closed the front flap. If he could just vent it out a _little_ bit...

"Leave it!"

Rodrik's hand whacked the other boy's away.

"Hey! It's like a sauna in here. Don't you fancy freshening the place up?"

"Such a thing isn't possible with you around," Rodrik quipped.

"But-"

"Just leave it."

Shep sighed, slamming his slick body back down onto the ground. A second attempt would only reflect the first. Rodrik always got his way.

_Gggggooouuurrrggg..._

The troll whined faintly. He could feel something dangerous cooking in his murky depths, and he knew it would only make their sticky situation even worse. He clenched his sphincter as he tried to hold back the beast, but Shep's butt wasn't used to not being allowed to expel as freely and as plentifully as it liked, so this had the opposite effect, causing the pressure to build. After a selection of short, high-pitched farts slipped out, his rump rapidly reached its breaking point.

**TTTTHHHRRRRUUUUUPPPppprrRRrrrssssppppssssssst!**

A steamy explosion set off inside the tent as the hybrid let out another big, beefy blaster. The temperature increased dramatically; far too much for Shep's liking. He was on the verge of melting right there on the floor, but when the half-breed lurched forward to open the flap, the elf _still_ blocked him.

"Are you being serious?! I'm about ready to pass out! How is this not bothering you?"

"It's not the first time we've shared a tent together, d-dingus!" Rodrik spat, setting his jaw to stop his pearly teeth from chattering. He had to throw some of the blankets off himself in order to fan the hideous smell away, and he had already lost half of the heat he had worked so hard to accumulate. His eyes pricked with tears, which only added to Shep's confusion.

"But - you're always bumping your gums about how much I reek!"

"Maybe I'm g-getting used to it."

"Oh, _sure_."

"Considering how often you crack them off in front of me, I wouldn't say it was out of the q-question!"

Silence. Rodrik smirked, taking Shep's wordlessness as him having won the argument.

"Well," the troll's voice returned in a lower, threatening tone, "we can't have that, can we?"

Rodrik's flesh crawled. He knew what that tone meant. And when push came to shove, he cared about being conscious far more than he cared about being warm.

"Shep. Shep! SHEP! That wasn't a challenge, Shep! _Don't!_"

But Shep had already gotten into position, laying on his side with his leg raised and his hands kneading into his rumbling gas-chamber. With his fangs sinking pleasurably into his lip, he farted massively. The tent bloated out, near enough splitting at the seams as it was force-fed an ocean's worth of the half-breed's formidable flatus. It was a sure-fire way of getting the elf to comply with what he felt was a _very _simple request. Shep chuckled with amusement as the powerful fart raged on.

_Gets 'em every time_, he thought with a snort.

Having been released in a closely contained space, the musk fogged up the air, and the only thing that told the half-breed that his companion was still with them was the muffled coughs and wheezes coming from the other side of the bed. While he waited, Shep dreamed of Rodrik's reaction. He imagined him frantically tearing the tent into pieces in order to de-fumigate the place as promptly as possible, letting the gloriously energizing, adequately-oxygenated artic air flood in.

But when the smog finally cleared, he saw that Rodrik remained buried in his nest, a blanket pulled up over his nose, staring at Shep with fury in his one good eye.

Shep's jaw picked itself up off the ground after he spent a few seconds studying the elf's face. His brain had reached an alarming conclusion.

"You... you sly dog!"

Rodrik didn't dare to expose his mouth to the poisoned atmosphere, so he raised an inquiring eyebrow instead.

"You're huffing my farts!"

_That_ was more than enough to lure Rodrik back out. He almost burst out of the roof with how quickly he shot upright.

"How dare you!" The elf shrilled. "I am not!"

"You so are!"

"Gods, it's not just your arse that shit comes out of, is it? You're so pathetic!"

"Hehehehe~!" Shep giggled with glee, rubbing his clawed hands together deviously. "Deny it all you want. I know the truth. Rodrik Mydrin is a right little fart-sniffer, so he is!"

"Shut up! After the number of times you've made me spew on myself, do you seriously think I'd suddenly want to-"

"Then why ain't you opening up the flap?"

"Because-"

"Because you wanna huff my farts! That's why!"

"NO! Because your gas is warm and it feels really nice!"

Some color (but only a little, since his face was close to freezing over) returned to the elf's cheeks. Had he really just said that? Seeing how Shep's jaw had fallen on the floor again, he must've.

"It... it's baltic out there and... well..." Rodrik huffed, blushing furiously. Without another word, he disappeared into the safety of his nest. He awaited the half-breed's laughter and jeering. Shep would surely have a ball with this.

Shep didn't even chuckle.

Tentatively, the elf peeked out from underneath the pile of quilts, his suspicion doubling when he saw the pitying look on the half-breed's face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

The hybrid tugged at the blankets piled over Rodrik. Half of them parted from the elf's body, but before he could feel the effects of the cold, Shep shuffled his way into the nest, introducing a whole new source of snugness.

"Shep..." Rodrik warned, eyeing him carefully.

Ignoring him, Shep's hand slipped beneath Rodrik's sweater, and the shirt he had on underneath that, and he gently pulled the lean-bodied male closer to his own slab of roasting flesh. As he was about to protest, Rodrik felt Shep's leg wrap around his own, fitting them together like two perfect pieces.

"If you wanted heat," the troll whispered into his ear, "all you had to do was ask."

He exhaled softly over Rodrik's goose-pimpled neck. A low rumble came from Shep's throat - this noise not being comprised of nitrogen and the fragrant residue of whatever he had last eaten, for once - and Rodrik quivered as he heard the hybrid start to purr. The knowledge that trolls could produce such a sound had delighted Rodrik upon their first discovery, and he had teased Shep plenty of times for displaying this behavior, often without meaning to.

This instance was not unintentional. And so it wasn't quite as funny as it was... _alluring._

He felt Shep's wet lips brushing over his skin.

"Shep," Rodrik's voice quavered, torn between wanting to encourage and admonish him. He could feel his spine start to tingle and the muscles of his groin flex. "Shep, I... we..."

"Just relax, mate," Shep murmured softly. "You're alright. I've got you."

Rodrik's lips slowly sealed. His eyes shut as he felt the other male rest his cheek against his own cool face, and the heat seemed to vacate the troll's body and flow into Rodrik, reviving him from his head to his toes.

"Shep..."

"Hmmm?"

"Go away!" Rodrik suddenly exploded. He refused to pay any attention to the pang of regret that formed in his chest as soon as he barked out his order. All he could feel was the panic. He heard the other sigh and felt the half-breed start to reluctantly untangle their limbs.

"But don't move," Rodrik quickly added. "You're... pretty toasty, actually. It feels... almost nice."

"Go away but don't move?" Shep repeated, snickering.

"You know what I mean. I just don't want to - you know. Do _that_."

Shep moved back into his original place, pressing his body against Rodrik's and resting his head on the same pillow as the elf's.

"G'night, Rodrik," he murmured.

"Goodnight, you big oaf."

Shep smiled as he felt Rodrik start to unwind next to him. It wasn't how he envisioned it, but maybe this could work.

_Gggguuurrrrgggg..._

Or, maybe not. This gurgle was hardly audible, but Shep certainly felt the gas swelling up in his tense belly. Hey, if Rodrik wanted toastiness, he was more than happy to provide him with it. Silently, he raised part of their shared blanket over the elf's face, then, bracing himself for Rodrik's inevitably hostile reaction...

**BBBBBBBBVVVVVOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!**

...he let loose, evacuating all of his remaining pressure and securing the unsuspecting elf in a claustrophobic cavity of pure, undiluted troll stink.

"Oh Gods! OH GODS! WHAT'RE YOU-"

The half-breed laughed heartily as he heard the elf's traumatized cries coming from underneath the layers of thick blankets, and watched the shape begin to flail and squirm.

"You did say you wanted me to warm you up!" Shep reminded him, lifting his leg to let out another extended trumpet solo. The panic-stricken movements intensified within Shep's lethal dutch-oven. "So that's what I'm doin- _ouch!_"

Rodrik had managed to set himself free, and punched Shep squarely in the nose while making his exit.

"Oh, you fucker!" The troll cursed, reeling back and clutching his battered schnozzle.

His face the same shade as Shep's skin, Rodrik held a hand over his mouth and used the other to prise the flap open. He stuck his head outside and knocked back as many wintry breaths as he could.

"You're - dead - meat!" He half-gasped, half-snarled at his partner, who snorted in response, then let out a pained cry, since snorting wasn't the easiest thing to do with a battered nose.

After getting his fill, and casting a livid look at Shep, Rodrik wrenched all of the blankets back over himself and kicked his foot into the hybrid's side.

"Go ice your nose, farty. And stay out there!"

Shep did as he was told, chuckling merrily on his way out. Rodrik threw a pillow at the hybrid's smelly ass. His big, ugly, round, _soft_ ass...

"Rodrik?"

"What, you brute?"

"Do ye _really _want me to stay outside? Because I could-"

"No," Rodrik interjected before Shep got any further, sighing, for he knew that Shep knew that this was the part where he admitted whether the hybrid was truly in his bad books or not.

"...no. You know I want you here," he muttered grudgingly.

"Good," Shep grinned boyishly. "'cause I've got a whole heap of cuddles with your name on it!"

Rodrik rolled his eyes as the gassy boy disappeared into the snowy landscape._ Stupid mongrel_, he hissed under his breath, though his cheeks were burning at the thought of spending the rest of the evening in the safety and security of the half-breed's arms.

* * *

"Shep?"

His body as still as stone, Rodrik listened for the sounds that would tell him that Shep was awake. Some kind of stirring or shifting of restless limbs, some sort of break in his smooth, steady respiration... or a nasty fart followed by amused laughter. But Shep's snoring continued just as it had before. The troll was sound asleep.

Carefully, Rodrik turned over to face his long-time associate. His only confidante. His dearest friend. His eye roamed lustfully over Shep's peaceful form, noting that his bloat had finally eased off, which shouldn't come as a surprise, he thought, considering he had rid himself of most of it when he trapped the elf underneath the sheets and contaminated what little air was available.

_Gods, he's the foulest creature I've ever met._

And Rodrik loved every last inch of him.

When Shep suddenly stretched, the elf's breath hitched in his throat. He couldn't imagine what would happen if Shep was to open his eyes at this very moment. What he might think. What he_ would_ think, for there was no denying the meaning behind what Rodrik was about to do, even if his words conveyed a very different opinion of their relationship.

He smoothed a hand across Shep's forehead, boney fingers pushing back his mop of unwashed curls, and reached over to plant a kiss there - then found that he couldn't resist it any longer. He had held it off for months now, and there was no fight left in him. He diverted and delivered it onto the half-breed's lips, instead. Just a small one, but enough for him to become hooked on the feeling.

He understood that from now on, his pining would only get worse. And from now on, he might not be so willing to hesitate in acting on his forbidden desires. Rodrik could live with that.

_Hey, at least he tastes better than he smells._

The elf nuzzled into the troll's chest, nostrils happily accepting the fragrance that constantly clung to Shep's skin. There was something vaguely comforting about it, although the closer you got to being downwind of Shep, the less endearing it became. He flinched when he heard the noise coming from underneath, at first assuming that he had gone too far and the hybrid had caught him in the act.

_What is he...? Oh._

A tickled smile crept onto his face and remained there for the rest of the night.

Shep was purring in his sleep.


End file.
